Their Deaths – A Bacio Della Morte fanfic
by Addicted to Nurarihyon no mago
Summary: Yeah, I know it's not Vocaloid, but where else could I post this? XD Sorryyyyyyyyy. Anyway, it's a story about the deaths of the characters from a chorus group that I love, Bacio Della Morte. You can read it if you feel like it.


**Their Deaths – A Bacio Della Morte fanfic**

**A/N: **So, I found this youtube contest called the Masquerade Ball Chorus Battle (MBCB), and as I listened to the participating groups, I found this group called Bacio Della Morte. I don't know why, but…I just fell in love with them. (Especially Virbius.)

And so, to vent out my BDM love, I made a fanfic about them. :D

If you're curious why it's a fanfic about their deaths, then…I guess you should just visit the Bacio Della Morte on tumblr. Not only will you know why this fic is about deaths, you'll _also _be able to listen to their amazing voices!

Oh, by the way…Special gift to anyone who can guess the secret regarding the order of the characters in the story! Seriously, there's a reason why I wrote their deaths in this sequence. The first person to guess why I wrote it in this sequence gets a special: A Bacio Della Morte-shipping fic, with a BDM pairing of their choice! :3

Anyway, to the story—

* * *

**~Viollocella~**

Pulling the trigger and making the shot with the utmost perfection, that was her hobby. Watching as the bullet shot through the flesh, breaking the skull and impacting the brain, admittedly, that was her guilty pleasure.

She was a sniper, and she well enjoyed her job.

Again, she lay on the floor in an empty building, alone, where no one would disturb her work, positioned once again behind her beloved gun, aiming for her target's head.

"Come on, just a little closer…" she muttered, her finger trembling in her excitement to pull the trigger already.

She grinned when the target moved into place, and at last, she pulled the trigger.

Through the scope, she watched as the bullet whizzed through the air, entering her target's head in a beautifully bloody manner, right through the eye.

A happy squeal escaped her as she watched the corpse collapse.

Unbeknownst to her, there was someone watching her.

From the building across the one she was hiding in, the man lay in wait, anticipating the moment when she would finally get up and go. He watched as she sat up, packing up her equipment. He smirked.

There.

Pulling the trigger of his own gun, he watched as the bullet flew into her head, skull cracking and breaking, allowing the bullet to effortlessly fly into her brain and out the back of her head.

Such a befitting death, he thought, for her to die the way she had killed others.

Grinning slightly as the girl fell to floor in the building opposite of him, he pulled out a notepad and checked a name off the list he had written on the paper.

"Viollocella is dead."

* * *

**~Desiderio~**

He had always been a genius. That's why they called him the brains. Strategically, logically…In every way, he was a genius. So why did they think he had mental issues?

There he sat in his empty room, his fondling with his long blue hair, the only colorful thing in this white washed cell, in all his boredom. I should really cut this soon, he thought, people keep mistaking me for a girl because of my hair.

Of course, they wouldn't let him anywhere near scissors…or anything sharp, for that matter…

As he played with his blue hair, the door opened. He looked up to find the usual doctor (yawn), and some other person with brown hair. He had no idea who the brown-haired person was, and that kind of set off his suspicions.

"Desiderio." The doctor said, closing the door as soon as his companion entered. "How have you been? I haven't been around for a while, I know. Sorry."

Blue eyes simply rolled as their owner hmph-ed, turning his head away. He never really was one to answer to the questions he was asked. He hated the pitiful looks on the doctor's face whenever they talked.

Today, however, seemed different.

There wasn't pity on his face, but instead, slight uncertainty.

He felt something extremely off then.

He watched as the doctor approached with his companion in tow behind him. The brilliant blue eyes narrowed as the doctor pulled something out of his pocket. A syringe, one filled with green fluid, at that.

Upon reflex, he got up on his feet, fists clenching on the side. He knew where this would lead, so he had to defend himself.

"Ah…Now, now, Desiderio…Relax…This won't hurt you…It's just something that will help you get out of here faster…" the doctor lied, "Isn't that what you want? To get out of here? This will help you, so just let me—"

Before the man could bring the syringe within stabbing range, he grabbed him by the coat with one hand and punched him with the other, throwing him toward the wall after. He made a break for the door.

But he had completely forgotten the brown-haired man.

The stranger had grabbed him by his shirt, throwing him to the floor, face first. The impact caused blood to fall from his head, and as well as his mouth. He lay there as the other unhanded him, leaving him to writhe in pain on the floor.

The doctor, shaking his head to remove the pain, approached him, kneeling down and grabbing his blue hair.

Blood mixed with blue tresses as the doctor pulled his head up. Tears streaked his face as he attempted to pull away and escape, but it was to no avail.

His teary eyes widened as he felt the needle stab his neck, soon enough, followed by the feeling of the syringe's contents being injected to his system. The contents of the syringe gone, the doctor let go of his hair and stood.

He turned to his companion, "I'll be expecting my due payments for this."

The brown-haired man nodded. "Of course. I'll make sure it's worth your troubles." The doctor nodded and left the room. As soon as the doctor was gone, he turned his attention back to the blue-haired teen, who continued to squeal and cry on the floor, pain filling his being.

He smirked as the boy's spasms died down, and pulled out a notepad, checking off the name.

"Desiderio is dead."

* * *

**~Eleanora~**

Thievery, though she didn't exactly like it, it was her only means of survival. She knew it was bad, but she couldn't help it. If she wanted to make it day to day, she had to steal stuff for her living sake.

Sighing due to the heavy load she had retrieved today, she trudged up the hill and into the nice, abandoned manor she had found some time back. She was really happy the day she found that place. Not only was it empty, it had some nice clothes left behind by the previous owners too.

"Man, I got so much today…" she said as she deposited the stolen goods to the old dining table. "Wonder how much this'll sell for…" As she said this, she lit a candle to illuminate the dark kitchen.

The moment she did, however, her eyes widened.

"Wh-who are you—?!"

Apparently, there was someone in the house. He wore dark clothes and a mask, grinning behind said disguise as his eyes observed her. When he stepped closer, she backed off.

The man made an attempt to grab her, but she was quick. She dodged him, but as an effect of this, he stumbled toward the counter and knocked over the candle she had lit.

Fire spread quickly.

She stared in horror at the growing flames before shaking her head, deciding that safety was more important. Teeth clenching, she ran outside. When she got out, however, she found about three other people waiting for her.

"A-ah…"

The man in the middle, one with brown hair, pulled out a notepad and checked something off of it. He pocketed the pad and nodded to his companions. She watched as the other two pulled out guns.

Her eyes widened in fear. "N-no! Don't—!"

_BAM!_

A smirk formed on the brown-haired man's lips. "Eleanora is dead."

* * *

**~Echo~**

The sound of the cooling fans under his laptop, the CPU, the music blasting out of his wireless headphones, and the key on the keyboard being pressed as he typed away, those were the only sounds one could hear in the silence of the room.

Green eyes focused on the screen as he rapidly typed in the codes and sequences he needed to create the virus. He smiled a bit. Being a hacker is a fun job, after all. Really, it was. He enjoyed watching the reactions of the people he had hacked, their surprised and irritated faces…Ah, he really loved those.

As he finally finished typing, he took a second to marvel his work. Yes, this one would surely be the best one he had created yet…

Just as he was about to send out the program and cause another flaw in some random mafia's system, his eyes widened.

Blood splattered across his screen, a loud thud resonating as he and his laptop fell to the floor, knocking over the pile of books he had stacked next to him in the process. More blood spilled out as his tender flesh came into contact with the sharp tools and computer parts that he had left in front of him.

In the silence of the room, the man approached the corpse and pulled his wireless headphones off. Putting the device above his own ears, he listened to the song the now dead brunette had been listening to and smiled.

_(…Kami no ataeshi, karakuri program! Saa, eins zwei drei! Kasanariau! Saa, eins zwei drei! shi wo kawashite! Eins zwei drei! Tsuranariau! Saa, eins zwei drei! Shi wo furikitte! Shoumetsu no yuugi ni…kogareru kiseki wo ubau— Survival Game! Rasen no you ni…Airen naru boukansha, Kogareru seishi yori mo tooku, Saihate ni aru hakoniwa de, Owari no nai kiseki ga aru to, Shinjiteita…)_

The man felt a laugh escape him. So he liked listening to this kind of music, huh?

After taking off the headphones, he pulled out a notepad and checked off a name.

"Echo is dead."

* * *

**~Castelle~**

She was the best of spies, that was for sure. Whatever mission it was that was given to her, she would _always _perfect it. She was simply the best. So where did she go wrong? How did her going-perfectly-well mission get so out of hand?

She struggled in her bounds as she tried to think of an escape plan, but it was to no avail.

The door opened, a man with brown hair stepped in. He had a rope in hand. She glared at him, "Release me."

"Why should the captor do as the captive demands?" he asked as he took a stool and tied the rope to the ceiling, afterwards tying the bottom end into a knot specifically made for hanging. She involuntarily gulped at the sight.

Stepping down from the stool, the man approached her, grabbing her long brown hair. She struggled, but to no avail. He pulled her up and onto the stool, slipping her head into the opening of the rope. She gasped as he tightened it around her neck.

Smirking, the man kicked the stool out from under her feet.

He watched as she coughed and gagged, tears slipping out of her eyes while saliva slowly came from her desperate mouth. Feeling sadistic, the man decided to untie her hands to at least give a chance to try and free herself.

With her hands finally freed, she tried to loosen the pressure around her windpipe, her spasms growing stronger and stronger as she did. But all of her effort to try and save herself was wasted.

Soon enough, her spasms died down, and the life left her golden eyes.

He smiled as he took out a notepad, checking another name off the list.

"Castelle is dead."

* * *

**~Cielo~**

It was a normal day. There he sat in his office, signing the papers that he, as a mafia boss, was required to go over without fail. He loved being the boss and all, but he seriously hated all the paperwork that came with it. Soon enough, he got tired of reading and got up, leaving the room.

He could continue with those later. Besides, he's the boss! Who would dare defy him?

Entering the kitchen, he got himself some water and snacks. What? Mafia boss he may be, he doesn't really like relying on servants or underlings to get and prepare his food for him. He's very wary of poisons, mind you.

Just as he was about to help himself to the snacks he had gathered, he found something to be off.

Why did the kitchen smell of kerosene?

His eyes widened all the more as he faintly began to smell smoke. Whipping his head around to scan his surroundings, he soon found out the reason for what was alluring his suspicions.

His house had been set on fire.

"SHIT!" he cursed as he made a break for the exit, but every door that lead to the outside wouldn't budge. He let out a chain of profanities as he ran around the manor, the fire spreading faster as he did.

Soon enough, the entire place was engulfed in flames.

Nearly on the verge of exhaustion, he grabbed a chair and was about to break the window back in the kitchen, but as he was about to, his attention fell upon something that had apparently been quite near his foot this entire time. He bowed his head to look.

His brain just lost all function the moment he saw it.

"N-no…"

Under the weight of a burning beam, the small and frail body lay, unmoving. It was covered in blood and cuts, and charred lightly from all the fire atop it. Black soot and red blood had mixed and covered the skin and clothes. His eyes shot even wider, tears involuntarily forming on the corners. His breath got heavier as he stared.

He fell to his knees, eyes trained on the smaller body in front of him. "A-a…A…" Tears continued to flood out of his eyes, choked sobs preventing him from saying the name. He let out an enraged and grieving yell.

Oxygen now fully replaced by carbon dioxide, he coughed and gagged, falling to the floor due to his lungs begging for fresh air. But he didn't care. He didn't want to leave. He didn't have a reason to now.

Once he finally dragged himself to the corpse in front of him, he held the small hand that had probably been stretched out for him. His tears became stronger as he felt the cold wetness of the skin.

Now he was unable to hold on any more. Hand still tightly wrapped around the smaller one of the corpse in front of him, he lowered his head in defeat. Giving off a final choke, and a small whimper, he burned to ashes along with his home…and the one he had treasured the most.

Outside, the man stood, amongst the crowd of mafia that watched the manor burn to the ground. He grinned. Such a good thing it was, that he found the enemies of the young boy's familia and had them do the dirty work for him.

Taking out the notepad, he checked off the name.

"Cielo is dead."

* * *

**~Virbius~**

He clicked his tongue as he watched another corpse fall to the floor, blood dripping out of the hole that he shot into the head. It was a tiring mission, but at least it was over now. He pocketed his guns and upturned the collar of his black shirt. It was unnaturally cold today.

Sighing, he began to walk away from the bloody mess he had created. Sometimes he really hated how his job as a hitman was so bloody.

"Geez…I should get paid more. These jobs are really getting tiresome." He muttered to himself as he walked.

Then something snapped in his head.

He heard a gun click come from behind, footsteps following it. He whipped his head back to look, finding a man with brown hair, smiling at him as he held up a gun in his direction.

'Crap!' he thought as he pulled out his own guns, but the other was too quick. His guns were shot out of his hands.

"Sh-shit…" he stammered, eyes wide, before turning to make a run for it.

And that's when the gunshot resonated.

He fell to the floor, blood dripping out of the bullet hole in his head, tears clouding his dull violet eyes. Blood clotted and stuck onto crimson hair, dripping down pale skin and out of his partly open mouth.

A smirk formed below a shadowed face as the other pocketed his gun, taking out the notepad and checking off the redhead's name.

"Virbius is dead."

* * *

**~Shade~**

"Shade? I'm hungry." The little girl whines, holding onto her stomach with one hand while the other tugged at her older sister's to get her attention. The older sister, with dark teal hair and bright and happy red eyes, smiled down at her.

"Already, Melanie? But we just ate lunch, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but…I'm hungry again…"

A small laugh escaped the older. "Oh, alright." She smiled and lead her little sister through the town, heading to the market. As they walked, they passed by what seemed to be an orphanage. Absentmindedly, Melanie had bumped into the man standing by the door.

"O-oh! Sorry, mister!" she apologized.

The man only looked down at her, observing. Then he raised his head and eyed the older sister. Both felt uneasy at this.

She pulled her little sister back, wrapping her arms around the other protectively, and watched as the man called for his underlings. Soon enough, shady men in black circled them. Melanie trembled in her sister's arms.

I can't let anything happen to Melanie, she thought. The men in black neared. Teeth clenching, she made a decision. She pushed her little sister away from her just as the men grabbed onto her, keeping her from going anywhere. She watched as he sister ran away, and smiled.

"Melanie…Live on, and be safe…" she whispered as she was dragged away into the building, the man Melanie had bumped into apparently satisfied with just one of the two sisters.

She was taken down to the basement of the building, where she was then locked behind iron bars. Days passed until she was given any food, and even then, all she got was scraps and lukewarm water. It was definitely not enough to warm the coldness of her body in this icy cell, but still she ate, and she was grateful for that.

Every now and then, someone in a lab coat would come down and take some of her dark teal hair, along with some vials of blood. One day, they even took her right hand, and even her left eye! She had never screamed and cried so much.

Time passed, her vision and health crumbled slowly with every day that went by, with every lock of hair they took, with every vial of blood that they forcefully took. The happy-go-lucky tealette that she had always been was no more, replaced a girl with dull red eyes that screamed of the misery and pain she felt inside.

Yet, still, she felt a shard of happiness, knowing that her precious sister was alright.

Weary from the starvation and abuse, she fell to the floor, blood dripping out of her mouth. A tear fell from the one dull eye she had left. "Mela…nie…" she said in a barely audible whisper, "L-live on…and….be s-safe…"

Saying this, the life left her eye.

Outside the cell, he smirked as he watched dirty teal tresses shadow hollow red eyes.

He checked off another name.

"Shade is dead."

* * *

**~Mnemosyne~**

"SAY THAT AGAIN, DISPSHIT?" she said loudly, glaring down at the trembling boy below her, who, in turn, weakly glared up at her as he held his cheek, which stung from the strength of her punch.

"T-tch…You'll regret this!" the boy said as he scurried out from under her, standing up and running off. She watched as he ran, a satisfied grin filling the lower half of her face. She always loved it when people ran away from her, scared.

Nothing else to do, she walked back home, happy to see how people quivered in fear at the very sight of her. She was feared, and she enjoyed it. She loved the resentment on their faces.

As she reached her house, she felt something grab at her snow white hair. She whipped her head around and found that some thug had dared to grab the white tresses she took the most pride in. Silver eyes glared.

That bastard! How dare he?! She thought in her agitation.

She was about to throw a punch at the man, but before she could do so, more thugs had appeared and grabbed at her arms, some of them grabbing her legs and lifting her up. Soon enough, she found herself being carried off to somewhere.

As she struggled, she noticed that she was being taken to the town square, where a huge crowd of people had gathered around the big old tree there. She recognized that boy from earlier, standing amongst the crowd, smiling smugly at her as she passed him.

The thugs carried her to the tree, where they tied her ankles together and hung her from upside down on one of the strong branches of the trees. They bound her wrists above her head, securing a blindfold around her head and a gag around her mouth.

The moment she was tightly secured in her binds, strong punches were thrown at her.

She gasped and coughed, the blood rushing to her head and out her split lip leaving a nauseating feeling in her head, and also making it unbelievably difficult to breathe.

As she was punched, the crowd cheered.

One punch after another, the impacts just wouldn't stop. Blood continued to flow out of her gagged mouth, as well as from every swollen wound in her body. Punches continued to be thrown, until, finally, her coughing and gagging stopped. The thugs stopped beating her for a minute, and observed that she wasn't moving at all.

Loud cheers echoed from the crowd then.

Now that the white-haired spitfire was dead, everyone went their own way, without even so much as looking back once. All of them, except one.

Pulling the notepad out of his pocket, he checked off the name. He smiled and shoved his hands into his black coat.

"Mnemosyne is dead."

* * *

**~Giussepa~**

She was a rather good doctor for her young age. There was no one she couldn't heal. Hell, people had even called her the Florence Nightingale of her generation! Despite her youth, she had already been employed in hospitals. She had saved many lives and helped many people.

How ironic it was, that she was the one this time who needed treatment. It felt weird to the one in bed instead of the one administering treatments.

The door opened. She looked up with a smile, greeting the newcomer.

"Good morning, _Signora_ Giussepa." The (male) nurse said, "The doctor told me to give you this shot." He held up a syringe filled with purple liquid.

Her brows knitted. "That's not the normal medicine…Wait, why is that medicine purple?" she said as she slowly got off the bed, cautious.

The other only frowned. "The doctor said you needed this, _signora_."

She shook her head. "I refuse to take that 'medicine' unless the doctor will tell me to himself." she said as she headed toward the door. As she turned the knob, her eyes went wide.

Breathing heavily, she put a hand over her right eye, her head beginning to spin. She leaned on the door frame, body shaking. Behind her, the man eased his hold on the syringe, which by now had half of its contents deposited into the golden-eyed girl's system.

"Y-you…!" she weakly coughed out, before falling to the floor, blood dripping out her mouth then.

The man sighed and hid the syringe. He pulled out a notepad and checked off the final name that he had listed on the paper.

"Giussepa is dead."

* * *

In a dark space, the ten who died at that brown-haired man's hands lay sprawled on the black floor. They were completely unconscious.

Above them, a voice spoke.

_"I shall grant you all a miracle…Use it to correct the wrongs that had been done to you and avenge your deaths. Beware though. Your face in the mirror may seem unchanged, what lies underneath may be different. Use your miracle wisely, else you'll never be able to right the wrong, and you will once again die."_

The ten on the floor gave light groans as they slowly sat up.

"_Ciantiamo, Giussepa, Cielo, Echo, Shade, Eleanora, Virbius, Castelle, Mnemosyne, Desiderio, and Viollocella." _The voice said as the space slowly began to become white, _"Go forth and avenge yourselves…Bacio Della Morte."_


End file.
